by Terry Reid
Lyle shook his head. “I don’t know.”
Fallo looked at his daughter, and he asked her in words unfamiliar.
Terry hesitated, rubbing her eyes. The back of her head continued to throb with a dull pain and her eyes hurt. Finally, she shook her head and grimaced.
Fallo slowly stood, helping his daughter to her feet. He looked at the other three, his anger palpable. “This is exactly along the lines of what I feared would happen if I let you do things your own way. You may have defeated Edward before and that is commendable but this time the price has been far too high.” He looked around them all. “I’ll finish this.”
“Fallo...” said Connor.
The King turned to face him, his eyes ablaze at his impotence. “Don’t you dare boy...”
Connor held his gaze and was about to speak but Lyle gripped his arm and shook his head.
Terry slowly turned her head, her vision dark. She ignored the exchange and lifted her head skyward, as if searching for something.
Her uncle noticed. “Terry?” The others looked at her.
Her eyes moved between them. “What?” She asked, bluntly.
“Are you ok?” Lyle asked.
She straightened, offended by the question. “I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”
“Nothing...just...you seemed distracted.”
Her eyes blazed. “I’m not distracted. I have Edward’s scent.” She looked at her father. “Or at least the body he is masquerading in.”
Fallo rose to his full height of six foot three. Even in his Alchemist form he exhumed a dangerous, yet graceful air that commanded authority. He was as intimidating as he was regal and as deadly as he was beautiful.
And what Lyle noticed about Terry escaped the others. For the first time she stood with the same air as her father. The changes in her posture were subtle and would have went unnoticed to most, but for someone who had seen her grow up from a child, the difference was as clear as a fresh water river after the spring melt.
The seasoned general suddenly felt a stirring deep within him and he too rose to his full posture; something he was only consciously aware of having observed his niece. Under normal circumstances he would have done it without thought, but her reaction had made him notice his own this time.
Fallo’s icy eyes passed between his brother and daughter. “We do it my way.” He said. The King expected a protest from her but what Terry said next surprised everyone. “We hunt.” It was a statement, not a question.
A flash of affection darted across Fallo’s face then vanished. But the fleeting expression was not lost on Terry and her eyes betrayed her love for him.
“You cannot kill him, he will just escape again.” Rufus blurted, risking life and limb to state the obvious.
Fallo’s head snapped round, his narrow eyes falling on him.
But Terry spoke before he could vent his rage on the alien. “That’s why you are coming with us. We need a plan to end this once and for all.” She approached Rufus. “And if there is anyone on the face of this planet who can come up with a cunning plan, it’s you.” She looked at Connor and smiled. “Also, Connor’s pretty good in a fight.”
His grim expression brightened. “Just don’t tread on me. Reanimated creatures trying to eat me and people throwing projectiles does not frighten me.” His smile broadened. “But you stepping on me as your primeval self does.”
Terry’s smile widened. “If you’re stupid enough to stand in the way, you deserve it.”
Connor laughed, for a few moments forgetting the heavy anxiety and worries that troubled him.
Rufus delved into his satchel, withdrawing a device, akin to a small gun. “I still have this, it wasn’t damaged during our first encounter with Edward but unfortunately I could not get close enough to use it.”
Lyle frowned at the device. It looked familiar. “Is that the same one we used the first time we caught him?”
“Yes.”
He was disappointed. “I thought you said you were going to come up with a new idea? This doesn’t work. If it had, Edward wouldn’t be here.”
Terry raised a hand to him for silence. “But it can hold him, which is all we need so we can deliver the final blow.”
Curiosity piqued, Fallo approached. “You speak like you know how to defeat him daughter.”
She gazed at him, her expression confident. “I do father. But I do not want to do it without your approval.”
Connor and Rufus exchanged a surprised glance. They had never seen her speak so properly to the King before.
“Then tell me.”
Terry looked at the others and said, “Could you give us a moment?”
They all looked surprised. But instead of questioning her, they all quietly moved away.
Turning to her father, Terry asked, “Shall we take a walk?”
Fallo inclined his head and they headed off.
They only walked a few hundred yards but it was far enough for them to be out of earshot and enough time for Terry to explain her plan to the King. Once she had finished, he remained silent for the longest time, standing and regarding her; his expression betraying no hint of what he thought of the idea.
Finally he asked; “Who told you this?”
Her eyes widened. “You knew this all along?”
“Yes. But it never crossed my mind as a way in which we could kill him. The Phantoms are like a cancer, like a thought or an idea spoken by one person to a crowd, once implanted they are hard to eradicate. It had never been done before and I have never heard tell of the method you’re suggesting being successful or even if it has ever been tried.”
Terry gave a slight nod, seeing his point.
“You did not answer me though.” He said. “Who told you about this? I do not know anyone else who knows this theory.”
Terry shrugged, a very human emotion coming to the fore. “No one, I worked it out myself.”
A smile touched his lips. “Or did you glean it from me when I was repairing your mind?”
Terry shook her head. “No. I worked it out.” She smiled, “Or more the broken part of my mind did.”
His eyes narrowed. “Your uncle is right, you’re not the same. There’s a presence about you...”
Terry met his gaze. “I am whole again.” She said proudly.
A smile split his face and he flung his arms around her, an embrace that nearly took the wind from her; but she loved it. There was no conflict in her mind, no voices, no warring emotions, just her.
When they returned, Connor, Rufus and Lyle looked at them with questioning expressions. But no one dared ask what they had discussed less they provoke the King’s wrath.
Fallo looked at the three men, Terry standing quietly by his side. “Gentlemen. Let’s go capture this Phantom.” And he smiled; the most terrifying thing they had ever seen.
Chapter 23
Edward
A football sized block of ice smacked Edward across the head. His skull exploded in pain as red spots danced across his field of vision. A line of blood trickled from his temple, causing his skin to suddenly feel very hot.
He smirked at his attacker. “Is that all you’ve got?”
Faye circled him from a distance, her eyes fixed on the murderer. Even in her desire to kill him, she remained wary of getting too close. Phantoms could not jump to another host if they were more than a few of feet away and then, many of them could only do a transfer by direct contact between the two hosts.
She had bought him to the sub-basement of a deserted apartment block. The building had not been damaged in the attack by the reanimated Alchemists, but they were still rampaging about above their heads. All it would take would be one to grow too close and Edward could work his will into getting it to attack the building. Then regardless of if his body died or not, he could simply vanish into the air like a spectre. But his influence was diminished when did, like it was dulled by distance. Phantoms could possess another being into doing anything they desired, but once separated,
they became mere puppets to the single drive slotted inside their head. They could never perform complicated tasks not without their controller close by.
“I can do worse.” Faye said, as she disappeared behind him. He followed her as far as she gaze would allow without straining. She had wrapped two chains around his arms and weighted them with barrels she had found in the cellar. Then she had frozen the chains and barrels, encasing his wrists in ice.
“But I want to take my time and enjoy it. A quick death is unfit for someone like you.”
His lip curled in the corner. “Faye, Faye, Faye.” He said his eyes filled with dark amusement. “I experience death all the time when my hosts die. For a while it always feels like I’m being dragged with them before they go. I have been tortured, I have been mutilated, but it is all just the pain of the flesh. You can’t really hurt me.”
She paused, holding his gaze. “We’ll see.” She slowly turned her back and walked away from him. Reaching the far wall, she turned back to face him. “There is one thing I would like to know before you die. That night you attacked us at Cresswell. Why did you accuse Terry of killing your wife?”
Edward stared darkly at her for a minute. Then he relaxed, a thin, evil smirk forming across his lips. “Don’t try to play mind games with me.”
“I’m not. You said you wanted to get back at her for killing your wife.” She moved closer. “Terry never killed your wife; she died at the hands of the Kamari.”
He strained against his icy shackles, but they did not give. “You’re lying.”
“No, I’m not and neither was Terry.” She observed his obvious discomfort at the subject. “It’s ironic. I thought it was one of your mind games, another trick, like the one where you tried to turn the nations against each other. But it isn’t, you really believe that, don’t you?”
Edward strained again, but the ice refused to give. Then he turned on her, a feral look in his eye. For a moment Faye thought he would break free. “Liar!” he spat. “You were there! You saw her die!”
She stepped back, horrified. “What are you talking about?”
“You killed her! You killed her!” he screamed. The ice around his hands broke, the icy chain on his left wrist snapping. He stormed toward her.
Faye retreated, only having enough time to throw a small block of ice at him, which he blocked with his arm – his frostbitten hand swinging limply as he raised it. He swung his other arm, whipping the end of the broken chain toward her. She tried to turn and run but it struck her across the face and back with an air-slicing snap. She stumbled to the ground, head reeling.
He swept the chain back to strike again. Then the roof caved in. Edward fell to the ground, covering his head with his frostbitten hands. Shafts of light danced across the crumbling ceiling as it was ripped away, sending flurries of dust swirling into the basement. The dusty air caused him to choke and his eyes to stream. Covering his face, he coughed into his tattered, damp sleeve.
He trembled as an almighty, deafening shriek filled his ears. He wanted nothing more than to cover them with his hands, but their wrecked state and a lack of air and itching eyes gave him no hope of doing so. Something struck him across his side and chest, sending him sailing through the air. Air exploded from his lungs as his back struck the floor. Bright lights and dark blots swam across his eyes. Three large, clawed toes spread out across his chest, pinning him.
Fallo crouched, the spikes and plates on his back rippling. A slow, threatening hiss emanated from between his maw as he craned his head closer; saliva dripping from his serrated fangs. His iris’s were little more than harsh slits against his amber, fiery eyes.
Lyle crawled down into the sub basement, using his large hands and feet to quickly pick his way down. He too hissed, baying for blood. But he did not draw near. Rufus scrambled down from his back, nearly falling. Connor also dismounted, running to Faye who lay unconscious under a pile of fallen wood. A sense of relief washed through him once he felt her pulse.
Rufus picked his way through the rubble, carefully holding the gun-like device he was about to use toward Edward.
Terry leapt down from her father’s back in single bound, rubble crunching beneath the metal of her heavy, armoured feet.
Edward, senses regained, began to struggle against Fallo’s foot. But his efforts were in vain. He was like a tiny insect wriggling between the fingers of a giant.
“Turn it on.” Terry instructed, as she and Rufus grew near. Rufus slid a switch and the device began to hum as it powered up. He then directed the end of it at the trapped Phantom.
Edward stopped struggling, his eyes widening with terror. “No! No! No! Don’t you fucking dare!” he screamed, beginning to thrash again.
Rufus pulled the trigger and two prongs ejected from the device. Each one hooked itself to Edward’s temples and buzzed, before releasing a dazzling, electrical charge. Edward screamed and convulsed as a wave of electricity ran through him.
Terry joined Rufus as he kept a careful eye on the screen on the back of the gun. The bars fluxed randomly, through green and yellow to crimson, sometimes poking off the chart. “Is it working?” she asked, over the din of Edward’s inhuman scream.
“I don’t know...any longer and the electromagnetic pulse will kill his body!”
“Keep going!”
Rufus held his nerve, despite the spiking readouts. Suddenly the readings seemed to stabilise. The device began to bleep, its pitch growing louder and louder. Rufus waited longer than he dared; his heart in his mouth. When the device began to whine, he flipped the switch off.
The crackle of electricity vanished and Edward’s pained cries were cut off as he passed out, plunging the basement into a deep, unsettling silence.
Terry glanced over Rufus’s shoulder again at the readings. She noticed the sweat on his brow. He sighed nervously. “It’s done...it’s done...” he said, giving her a quivering nod. “He’s alive but he’s trapped in there now.”
Connor looked away as Faye stirred in his arms. She opened her eyes for a second. Then her gaze grew distant and they rolled up into her skull once more. She fell limp. “Terry, whatever you’re going to do, please get on with it. We need to get Faye out of here.”
Lyle growled, getting his attention. “He’ll take you to get help.” Terry said.
Connor hesitated. “What about you? Will you be ok?” he nodded to where Edward lay.
“We’ll be fine.”
Connor nodded. Standing, he carried Faye to where Lyle waited. The Alchemist crouched low, allowing Connor to mount with little difficulty. He lifted Faye on with his tentacles. Safely onboard, Lyle turned and crawled out of the basement, vanishing above the lip of the earth.
Fallo growled, drawing closer to his quarry. He flexed his mandibles and fangs. Terry knew he was growing itchy to strike and kill and she knew he was struggling to resist his innermost instinct to do so.
She growled, saying something to him. His eyes darted to her and his antennae twitched. He hissed in return, flashing his fangs. She reached out her hand and he dipped his head, so she could touch him. She said something in a series of clicks, which seemed to settle him.
Rufus watched in amazement as the King withdrew his large foot, before settling into a crouch. Despite being somewhat calmer, he kept a wary eye on the fallen Phantom.
“What did you say?” Rufus quietly asked.
Terry waved the question away, turning her attention back to Edward. Crouching, the plates on her right arm slid forward to form a sword over her hand.
“What are you...” Rufus began to ask, only to be cut off by a blood-curdling scream as Terry drove the blade into Edward’s shoulder. He thrashed and howled for several minutes. Finally with a cold, feverish sweat he settled. His shoulder burned at the flesh but deeper down it felt bitterly chilly, the cold kiss of the metal sending incontrollable tremors through his body every now and then.
Edward stared at her with hollow eyes, as he gasped desperately for breath. “Bitch
!” he cursed, grinding his teeth. “I’m not the monster here, you are!” he attempted to lunge for her, but the press of the metal blade caused him to wince and give-up. Leaning his head back, he shut his eyes, suddenly feeling tired. Taking a few ragged breaths he opened them again, but this time it struck Terry how empty they appeared.
“Will it kill me this time?” he asked, looking both directions. He could not see the prongs, but he could feel them.
Terry shook her head. “No. And I’m sorry that they didn’t last time. But it doesn’t mean you will not die.”
He smirked. The smile quickly vanished as he broke into a fit of coughing. Once it had subsided, he wheezed, “How?”
“What was your wife’s name Edward?” She asked, changing the subject.
His eyes narrowed and he shook his head slightly, confused. “What does it matter?” he demanded hoarsely.
“It matters because you can’t remember it, can you?”
His eyes blazed. “Of course I do!”
“Then tell me.”
He glared at her with renewed anger. But a few moments later his conviction began to falter and his eyes widened. He swallowed hard, his face turning even paler. “I don’t remember...” his eyes darted to hers, searching desperately for answers. “How can I not remember?”
But there were no answers, only more questions. “What did she look like?”
Edward’s gaze drifted away. He slumped beneath her blade. Silent tears began to stream down she cheeks as he shut his eyes. “She’s gone...” he mumbled.
Terry shifted her position to a more comfortable one. “Edward.” She said and his eyes opened, focusing on her. She sighed, “Edward, the reason why you can’t remember is because you’re not really here. You died nine years ago."
Confusion etched his features.
“That’s why you can’t remember your wife, or how she died.”
He slowly shook his head. “Lies...” he mumbled, his voice brittle.
“Where have you been all these years Edward? You’ve been gone a very, very, long time. Surely you must remember where you’ve been.”
